


it's a lonely thing (protecting a breakable heart)

by Jazer



Series: Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Foster Care, Gavin Reed is an asshole, Gavin Reed-centric, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't know how tags work, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), and he's an emotional cactus in need of a hug or two, but i live for character development so that's what you gonna get, it's basically a character study, listen we all know that Gavin was in the game only to fill in the role of an asshole, not here but you'll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 00:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15652221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazer/pseuds/Jazer
Summary: Gavin Reed knows a lot of things.Christmas, it seems, isn't one of those things.





	it's a lonely thing (protecting a breakable heart)

**Author's Note:**

> listen
> 
> I know that in canon, Gavin is just an asshole without any likeable character traits, but I believe in character development and that everybody's got a reason for things they do and well, I just wanted to explore a little and like, write it all down before it goes away? It's basically cliche and shit, but I'm kind of happy about it.
> 
> I just wanted to give him some kind of backstory, don't take it seriously.

                Gavin is six years old, when it happens the first time.

                He wears old, worn-out clothes and clutches a dirty teddy bear in his left hand. He’s shivering. He’s outside and it’s freaking cold. It’s winter. It’s Christmas time and Gavin stands outside because that’s what mama and papa told him to do. He sees them having dinner through the window, he hears them laughing and joking. They watch television.

                Gavin stands on the pavement and stares.

                It’s freezing, but all he has is a thin jacket he found in his wardrobe and a teddy bear and he feels something wet sliding down his cheeks and he knows he’s crying but he’s so cold he doesn’t feel it anymore. It’s just there.

                He knows a lot of things too.

                Christmas is for lucky people. You get together with all of your family in one room, you sit by one table and you eat together. Later, you exchange gifts. (Gavin knows because he hid his in the attic. He wanted to give them later, but he never got the chance. He thinks they’re still there). Christmas is a time when you forgive and laugh and are happy.

                Gavin knows a lot of things.

                He also knows he’s not meant to have Christmas, either.

* * *

 

                For all the things Gavin knows and prides himself in knowing, there are things that are unknown to him.

                Things he occasionally sees happening in TV when a family goes together to an amusement park, when a mother kisses her child goodnight, when a father embraces his son. He gets them and understands – to some degree, but doesn’t actually know them.

                His mother doesn’t kiss him goodnight, but she puts him to bed and leaves without so much as glancing back. His father would rather sit on the couch and drink, than hug him or complement him. They never once went to an amusement park, but they had no trouble taking him to a bar. Gavin didn’t like it and still hates the smell of alcohol, because it makes him sick. They never play games, they don’t eat dinner or breakfast together, too. If Gavin’s lucky, they greet each other in the evening.

                This is all fine, Gavin thinks at a tender age of nine. Not everything is like in the movies.

* * *

 

               Soon, he’s twelve and half and he learns that he wants to be noticed, he wants his parents to look at him and see all the things he is, and all the things he could be. He wants them to look and be proud. He needs them. He’s just a little kid.

                He learns, that even if the attention is bad, it’s better than being ignored. He’s too young, too stupid, too naïve and touch-starved to actually realize that getting beat up for causing trouble is not a way to get attention and he shouldn’t do it. He does it anyway.

                On Christmas, 2014, he accidentally slips and a cup he was holding shattered. He stands frozen and doesn’t move when his father gets up and throws a bottle at him. Doesn’t yell or scream, or even try to run away. He just stares and soon the world goes a little black and next thing he knows, he wakes up in a white room with a doctor talking over his head.

                He doesn’t understand what that means.

                “People are saying he’s homeless,” a doctor says to a woman dressed in a formal uniform. They stand by the door and don’t seem to notice he’s awake. Gavin squints his eyes at the woman and sees a patch on her arm. A police logo. He blinks. “but we aren’t sure.”

                “What happened to him?”

                “He seems a little beat up. There’s also a possibility that he got into a fight, because his nose got scratched by some glass. He’s going to have a scar.”

                Gavin winces.

                “Hold old is he?”

                “I’d say eleven? Twelve, maybe. He’s terribly thin and small. We don’t know for sure, but…”

                Gavin doesn’t hear anything else, they move to a room next door and leave him alone. He knows he should be scared, but he’s confused. He doesn’t remember how he got there, doesn’t actually remember anything after a bottle hit his face and the world went black. He looks at himself, dressed in white hospital gown and bandaged. Everything hurts and he wonders what happened to his parents.

                It’s Christmas, though. And Gavin knows better than anyone that Christmas in his family is reserved for mama and papa and for him to spend a night outside of the house. He doesn’t expect to see them tonight.

                He feels tired.

                He closes his eyes and the world goes black again.

* * *

 

                The system – put in simple words by Gavin – is fucked up.

                It’s not the first time Gavin thinks like that and not the first time he wonders about what it would have been if it were better, if people were better. But it is a first time Gavin actually stops to think it through.

                He’s not some kind of Jesus savior, he knows. He can’t change a damn thing. He’s fifteen and barely able to take care of himself. He can’t do shit about what the system is like. It’s like a virus. You may be able to delete it from one place but it quickly spreads to another.

                Gavin’s a determined man, though. You can tell him to fuck off, and he’s only going to try harder, and harder. That’s how it’s always been. People beat him up, belittle him and constantly put him down. Like his parents. Like every goddamn adult in the foster care system. They know he’s an outsider, a weak link. He’s useless and worthless. Broken, can’t do shit.

                He wants to make a change. He wants to help people like him. Put in jail those fucks and finally get some closure.

                He wants to join the police. He wants to. He needs to.

                “You will never make it,” Mrs Smith, the old lady that had the displeasure of fostering him this year mutters, “You’re gonna get stuck. Just like every other kid here. You can’t do it.”

                She had a cigarette in one hand and she waves a hand at him, like he’s some pesky fly that tries to steal her food. He stubbornly sits in his place.

                “I can do it,” he says and he says it in such confident tone that Mrs Smith pauses. She leans forward, interested and narrows her eyes. Gavin continues, “I will do it. Watch me.”

                Mrs Smith is certainly one of the best houses he’s been at in the last three years. She fosters two other kids but doesn’t touch him or yells as much as the others. She just smokes and buys them food. If they don’t do anything stupid, she ignores them. Gavin is fine with that.

                “We will see,” she shrugs, “Personally, I don’t think so. Kids before you tried and failed. The system is rigged against you, honey.”

                Gavin doesn’t dignify that with a response and sits quietly for the rest of the evening, words ‘the system is rigged against you’ ringing in his head long after he went to bed.

* * *

 

                High School is hell. Gavin doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t get high like the rest of his class and he doesn’t hang around people. He studies and studies, and learns. He gets the high marks, gets the praise from teachers and preens with pride. He’s happy that way.

                “You’re a pussy, Reed,” says Ashley as he passes her in the hallway. Gavin only smirks.

                “Takes one to know one,” he answers and gets hit in a face by her boyfriend the next day.

                He doesn’t regret it.

* * *

 

                Gavin gets adopted when he’s seventeen by the Kamski family.

                He forms irrational hatred for them the next day when he sees Elijah being hugged by his foster-mother, heart clenching at the sight. He feels jealous of the way they seemed to be comfortable with each other. He envies them money, luxuries, love. Gavin grew up not knowing any of those things and seeing them so close makes him irrationally angry.

                Elijah Kamski is the same age as him. Gavin observes him and glares. Elijah is discreet, owns a company founded at the age of sixteen and is constantly going from places to places. Gavin hates him.  He doesn’t really know why, he knows he should be grateful for even getting adopted that close to coming out of age.

                Elijah sees that and acts.

                One day, Mr and Mrs Kamski go on a business trip outside of Detroit. Gavin sneaks out of his ridiculously big room and wanders off so long he finally gets lost and just sits by the first window he sees and stares.

                He thinks of his parents, wonders where they are right now. Wonders if they miss him. If they ever cared about him. He thinks of all the Christmases he missed and all the Christmases he spent outside in cold. He scowls at himself, curls up on the carpet and angrily glares at the wall.

                That’s how Elijah finds him.

                “Did the wall say something to you?”

                Gavin doesn’t even turn to look at him, fully knowing how the smirk on Elijah’s face annoyed the living crap out of him and continued to glare.

                He doesn’t see it, but he gets a feeling Elijah raises his eyebrows at him, “Cat got your tongue?”

                “Fuck off.”

                This time, Elijah is surprised for sure. Gavin finally turns to him, clenching his hands on his pants. He thinks Elijah looks stupid like that, dressed like fake royalty in expensive clothes, looking like a God, acting like a God. Gavin didn’t need a real reason to hate him, because hate came easily to him, but if he were to explain why exactly he loathes Elijah, he’d say it’s the look on his face. Elijah always looks like he knows something Gavin doesn’t.

                “Ah. I see.”

                “What the fuck do you want?” Gavin asks when Elijah makes no move to elaborate on his answer, “Came to make fun of poor little foster kid?”

                Elijah shrugs, “Not really my thing.”

                “But you came here for something,” he presses, “so spill.”

                “I was just wondering why you’re so hostile. That’s all.”

                “Fuck you. I’m not hostile.”

                “See? That’s what I’m talking about,” he takes a few steps in Gavin’s direction and Gavin flinches purely out of habit. He hopes Elijah didn’t notice that, but when he stops and looks at him, Gavin knows he’s too observant not to see his reaction. “I just want to talk.”

                “We’re already talking.”

                Elijah looks grim, “I think conversation relies on something more than you telling me to ‘fuck off’, but maybe I’m just that socially inept.”

                Gavin smirks. Elijah takes another step and this time Gavin only watches. He sees the way Elijah tenses as if expecting Gavin to lash out if he gets too close and finally sits next to him, facing a different wall. They sit in silence for a moment.

                “We’re not going to hurt you, you know.” Elijah suddenly announces.

                Tension that was leaving Gavin’s body came back with full force and he hunchea his shoulders higher, defensive, “I don’t care.”

                “We read some stuff and—“

                “Do you ever, I don’t know, fucking shut up?” Gavin cuts in. Elijah’s mouth snaps shut. “You’re a freak.”

                “Thanks.”

                “No, I mean it. Are you stalking me or something?”

                Elijah glances at him, “We have security cameras, you know.”

                “You’re still a freak.”

                “And you are a jerk. Anybody ever told you that?”

                Gavin’s grin is sharp and unpleasant. Elijah doesn’t press the issue, but sighs and leans back. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes distant, before he speaks again, “I’m working on something.”

                “I don’t care,” is Gavin’s simple answer, but Elijah doesn’t seem to mind and just continues on talking. Gavin isn’t sure why since he made it clear that he doesn’t want to hear it, but Elijah speaks more and with time, Gavin realized that it’s actually soothing. He doesn’t expect him to reply or offer any comment, just goes on and on about something. Gavin only catches some technology jargon before he completely loses him.

                Sometime later, Gavin wonders if Elijah was just lonely.

                He quickly dismisses the thought.

 

*

                Mr Kamski isn’t someone Gavin personally likes. He listens to old music that makes Gavin want to rip his ears off – Gavin himself isn’t a fan of the new stuff that’s been coming out lately, but, like. There’s a fucking limit, alright? Mr Kamski isn’t a normal person either. He looks different than Elijah, too. His hands are big and his eyes are always looking at Gavin, as if he was waiting for him to make the first mistake to get rid of him. Gavin doesn’t like the way he stares at him.

                He doesn’t like the way he touches Gavin, either. But Gavin isn’t stupid enough to say anything just yet. It might be his imagination.

                Mrs Kamski, on the other hand, is scary. Gavin doesn’t mean it in a good way, but in a bad one. She never yells, she never hits him, she doesn’t even so much as glares at Gavin and it’s confusing. She tells him things, though – things Gavin doesn’t like.

                “I hope you aren’t thinking about those gay kids, dear,” she says one day when Gavin stares too long at a picture of Elijah’s high school class, “They’re up to no good.”

                Gavin is seventeen at the time, he’s had his fair share of homophobic parents. He knows he shouldn’t even react, and yet…

                “They’re just in love,” he says simply.

                It’s when Mrs Kamski stiffens and turns to him, eyes wide but distant, that Gavin starts to regret his bold mouth. She picks up a knife – they’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner – and she starts to talk, “Gavin, are you gay?”

                Her sweet tone of voice is enough to make Gavin swallow and look away. Her smile is welcoming – she wants him to confess. Her posture is not quite relaxed, but it’s not tense either. She’s waiting for something. It makes Gavin sick, that she looks like she means no harm and yet Gavin knows she wants to hurt him in some way.

                “No.”

                Her smile turns sharp.

                “Are you sure, dear? I wouldn’t want you to get In trouble,” the sound of a knife cutting a carrot makes Gavin flinch and he doesn’t understand why, “We can always send you on a therapy, just to be certain.”

                “I’m not—I’m not gay,” he lies.

                “That’s good,” her hand is in his hair, tightening for a second, before it’s softer and meant to be soothing, as she says, “Please, tell me if you feel sick like that, okay? We can always fix you up.”

                Gavin stands, frozen. He wants to pull away. He knows he can’t.

                “Promise me, Gavin.”

                “I promise,” is said in a hollow voice, before she lets him go and he practically runs to his room.

* * *

 

                Elijah sometimes says stuff Gavin despite his age doesn’t understand.

                “Would you like to run away?”

                Gavin who sits by his desk, doing last hour studying, pauses and looks at him, “What the fuck?”

                Elijah perched on his bed like a cat, rolls  his eyes and repeats his question. Gavin turns around and glares at him, “I heard what you said,” Gavin waves him off, “I mean, what the fuck? What’s up with that?”

                And Gavin knows what it all means when Elijah subtly glances at the door. Things haven’t been great lately, their parents have been distant to Elijah and more observant of Gavin. They scolded him when he said ‘fuck’ too much, and scolded him for not holding a spoon properly. They asked him who he wants to be in the future, then proceeded to criticize him when he said the truth. Last week, he accidentally broke a plate and didn’t get to eat dinner.

                Elijah is a genius, he knows where to look and when to leave things be. He also likes Gavin for some reason, already calling him ‘little brother’ despite knowing Gavin only for year or so. He takes notice of the small things Gavin does and never belittles him.

                And Elijah sees the way Gavin started to flinch for no apparent reason.

                “Professor Stern just asked me if I wanted to travel for a little bit, take my mind off the company before it completely takes over my life. And I need to get away from this place, find inspiration.”

                “You did say you’re stuck,” Gavin muses to himself.

                But Elijah looks at him, knowing. Gavin scowls, “What?”

                “So?”

                “So what?”

                “You going with me?” when Gavin’s eyes lit up, Elijah adds in, “I would do the talking. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even so much as look at you ugly face.”

                Gavin glares, but thinks it over. He desperately tries to hide the little hope that flared in his chest at the suggestion, but he knows Elijah already saw how eager he is to get away from this place. He wonders if Elijah always knew, if his parents were only like this to Gavin or they treated Elijah like an object to get money as well.

                He nods, hesitant, “I’m not going to have to say any shit to them?”

                Elijah practically shakes from excitement in his place on Gavin’s bed, “I will do the talking. I already told Professor Stern that you might be coming with me, so she’s fine with that too.”

                Gavin narrows his eyes, “Why the fuck are you so happy about this? I didn’t say yes.”

                Elijah smirks, “You didn’t say no, either,” he points out, then looks around Gavin’s room, as if to prove a point, “It doesn’t even look like you have to pack things. Are you always going to live like a broke college student?”

                Gavin frowns, “What do you mean?”

                “The room is empty.”

                Gavin also looks around, notices that beside the half-full wardrobe, couple of things he uses for studying laying on his desk and some comics on the floor, his room looks cold. As if no one actually lived there. He keeps his most important things in a bag under his bed, but even so Elijah is actually right.

                “I don’t really have anything else,” he admits after a minute and Elijah stiffens on his bed, “I mean, I don’t need any more shit than I already have.”

                “That’s everything you own?” his voice is quiet.

                Gavin turns around to his books and snorts, “What? Surprised not everybody’s got fucking millions on their bank account?”

                He doesn’t see Elijah when he sighs, “That’s not what I meant.”

                “Well, I don’t fucking care what you meant, asshole. Leave me alone.”

                “You still want to come with me?”

                Gavin pauses, thinks it over, then, “They won’t let me.”

                Elijah lets out a frustrated breath, “I will make them.”

                It’s moments like these that Gavin wonders if all this is just a dream. Elijah has a way with words, he says half-truths and his sentences sound like some kind of code. Half of the time Gavin has no idea what Elijah actually means. It makes Gavin feel stupid.

                He doesn’t know what Elijah wants.

                “Good luck.”

                Elijah is gone by the time he turns around.

* * *

 

                In the end, Elijah doesn’t take him for his trip. He was hit by the sudden wave of inspiration, threw himself into working frenzy and moved out to properly focus on his work with Professor Stern.

                Gavin is left behind.

* * *

 

                Everything goes to shit faster than Gavin could ever imagine it going. It’s not like he didn’t expect it to happen. He’s been waiting for it ever since the Kamski family adopted him out of “goodness” of their hearts.

                Elijah Kamski is a motherfucking genius, alright? Gavin knows this. Mr and Mrs Kamski know this. The whole world knows this. (Even people who never met Elijah knew how fucking smart he is, isn’t that kind of extra?) He’s not exactly surprised when he makes a breakthrough. He’s probably the only one who took the news the calmest. I mean, Elijah founded his very own company at the age of sixteen. He’s not stupid.

                The thing was – when people suddenly make a breakthrough, when they become famous and well-liked among others, people like Gavin become a second priority.

                Who’s the first priority now?

                Androids.

                Gavin is, frankly, disappointed. It’s not like he and Elijah were super close. They came to some kind of agreement and truce for those  three years, with Elijah being a mad scientist and Gavin being an aspiring cop, but they weren’t some movie-close brothers. It shouldn’t bother Gavin that much when a blonde android came into their lives. It doesn’t bother him.

                (It does).

                Its name is Chloe. The very first android to pass the Turing test.

                After the whole shock and things calmed, came Christmas and since Christmas was Gavin’s most hated holiday, he stayed by the wall when they threw a big party. He doesn’t get the luxury of wallowing in self-pity when Chloe approaches him.

                “Hello.”

                Gavin narrows his eyes and looks up, “What the fuck do you want?”

                It blinks, as if not understanding, and then it smiles, “Elijah told me a lot about you. I wanted to introduce myself.”

                The others may be fooled, but Gavin isn’t. It may look like a human, sound like a human and act like one, but Gavin knows it’s just a machine. It doesn’t feel. It doesn’t think. It’s just a fucking machine.

                He got replaced by a fucking machine. Maybe that hurts him the most.

                “I know what you are,” he sneers.

                Chloe blinks and tilts her head, “I’m Chloe. RT600 model. I would like to be friends with all of Elijah’s friends and family.”

                Gavin hates it.

                “I don’t care,” he nearly spits, “You can go back to your master and leave me the fuck alone.”

                He hates its expressive blue eyes, kind smile and personality. Hates how much it reminds him of how insignificant he is, just a lowly ex-foster kid that had no future.

                Chloe stays and, “Do you not like me?”

                Gavin doesn’t answer. He’s angry. Maybe, just maybe, if it weren’t for Elijah’s big ambitions and above average smart brain, Gavin wouldn’t have to spend those three years alone with Mr and Mrs Kamski, living his own personal hell. Heck, if Elijah hasn’t focused on making his damn androids, Gavin would be long gone from this place.

                He doesn’t know what was stopping him. He thinks it’s possible he was just waiting for Elijah to come back.

                 Chloe still stands in front of him, Gavin silently glares. Waits. Wants to push her and run away from that place. Hide in his apartment and never look back. Elijah is back so there’s nothing keeping him there. Not his brother, not his so called mother and father, definitely not a warm home.

                “Would you like me to call Elijah?”

                “I would like you,” he says through gritted teeth, “to fuck off.”

                “Now, why the hostility, little brother?” Elijah suddenly appears by her side and gives him a look. Chloe smiles wider. It look pathetic to Gavin. Fake. Forced. Programmed.

                “We’re the same age,” Gavin reminds him.

                Elijah waves his hand, “Chloe, leave us alone,” he commands, watching as Chloe obediently follows his order and joins Mrs Kamski. Then he turns to look at Gavin with something similar to hurt. _Good,_ Gavin thinks, _that’s what you get for being an asshole_. “You’re not happy.”

                Gavin snorts. “Why would I be happy?”

                “For me, of course. Your brother achieved a big success. Normal people would be proud,” he watches him as Gavin shifts and looks away, “I’m guessing you don’t like her.”

                “It.”

                “Yes, of course,” Elijah agrees, although the look in his eyes doesn't change and he still watches him with interest. “Is something… wrong with it?”

                “It’s a machine,” Gavin glares at him, “Congratulations. It’s awesome.”

                “Are you mad?”

                “No.”

                “You look mad.”

                “Well, I’m not. Fuck off.” He glances at Chloe laughing at something Mrs Kamski said. Watches how they interact. Gavin feels like an outsider again. Like he’s not part of a family. He knows he’s being replaced.

                Then again, was he ever a part of their family at all?

                “Ah,” Elijah suddenly says, “Never thought I’d see you like this.”           

                “Like what?” Gavin snaps.

                “Insecure. Jealous,” Elijah’s calculating gaze goes from Gavin’s shoes to his eyes and he smirks, slowly, “Is something the matter, little brother? Scared a machine is better than you?”

                _It’s not that_ , Gavin thinks, _it’s not what it’s all about._ But he doesn’t say it, because something about the way Elijah says it struck a nerve and Gavin flinches. He’s used to not being good enough, used to being tossed away like a broken toy when people find someone better. Elijah knows this, Gavin told him once.

                Elijah seems to catch up with what he says and he opens his mouth.

                “It’s just a fucking machine,” Gavin mutters, before Elijah can offer his half-assed apology.

                Elijah blinks, “Well, yes—“

                Gavin feels a pang in his chest and swallows hard, then he laughs and it’s broken, wrong, but he does it anyway. He ignores the hot anger in his chest, brings his hand up and claps Elijah on the back, nodding, “Congrats,” he says and it almost sounds as sincere as he wants it to sound, “You created someone even more annoying than you are.”

                Gavin kind of hates himself for not being able to be happy for him. Then he remembers Chloe, its smile and blue eyes and he doesn’t feel guilty anymore. Remembers that Elijah left him for it with Mr and Mrs Kamski for three years and instead of regret, he feels resentful.

                “Thank you…”

                Then Gavin looks up and smiles, cruel, “Maybe you can create yourself a new brother, too.”

                And then he pushes himself off of the wall, takes his jacket from the hanger in the hall and doesn’t look back to see how Elijah reacts to his words. Doesn’t even hear him calling after him. He’s too focused on getting out of there, on making it home – his real home – and never going back.

                As he gets into his car, he thinks of Chloe.

                _Fucking android._

Weeks later, Elijah doesn’t call, doesn’t text, doesn’t even make an effort to contact him. Gavin tries to not feel disappointed when he sees him on the news, getting his fame, getting money and making more androids. He’s not jealous. He’s not hurt over being left behind for a fucking android.

                Gavin is twenty and he already feels like he lost somewhere.

* * *

 

                He’s somewhere around twenty five, twenty six years old when he gets into Detroit Police Department as a police officer and quickly gains more and more enemies as he goes. It’s also when he meets Hank Anderson.

                At first, Hank looks like a promising man, climbing up the ranks and gathering popularity. He also seems to not care about any of it, close with Captain and other police officers in the DPD. Gavin sees him chatting with Ben Collins, another good cop and tries to not think about how nice it would be to also have someone to talk with in the force.

                He’s too ambitious to allow himself to become vulnerable, he’s got too much to lose, with androids getting more and more famous, with Red Ice getting out of hand. He’s too close to achieving what he wants. Too close to getting promotion to distract himself.

                It’s also Christmas and for some reason, people at the DPD throw a Christmas party. Everyone is invited. Gavin goes.

                Immediately after he gets there, he hears it.

                “He’s way too aggressive,” says Chris, munching on a chocolate cookie in the break room.

                Gavin leans on the wall and listens.

                “I don’t think anyone really wants him here,” says an unknown officer and Gavin scowls.

                “He’s annoying as hell. I don’t know why Captain keeps him around.”

                “I wish he didn’t—“

                Gavin walks in. Three, not two, people stop talking and look at him in mild horror and embarrassment. He only raises his eyebrow at them. Chris looks like he regrets being born, Gavin only smirks. “Talking behind my back, huh?”

                “Reed…”

                He doesn’t want to hear another apology, only taking a cookie before he’s out of there. He passes by Hank and almost jumps when the man takes his arm and halts him, “You okay there, kid?”

                And Gavin kind of stares, because, yeah, no. He’s not used to people asking that. And he must look worse than he thought. Even Ben gives him a knowing look. Gavin shrugs off Hank’s hand and takes a step back. Purely out of habit.

                “Fine,” he snaps.

                Anderson raises an eyebrow, “No need to get grumpy. We were just concerned. You look like someone kicked you or stole your favorite mug.”

                “Fuck off,” he mumbles, because what else can he say? He’s not a tattle-tale. He doesn’t need anyone to fight his battles and a couple of officers’ opinions don’t matter to him. He got that far just by himself and he would very much like to keep it that way.

                Hank snorts, “Alright, you must be fine if you’re still such an asshole, eh, Ben?”

                Ben gives him a look, “True.”

                “Fuck you,” Gavin says, this time with more heat and more force behind it. He catches people looking at him weird, as if they’re waiting for him to blow the party and go home. He considers not doing that, just to spite them, when he realizes he’s not really wanted there.

                And he’d rather go and spend the evening by himself than be somewhere unwanted. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

                “Fuck you, too, Reed.” Hank answers, but he’s being more civil about it than Gavin is.

* * *

 

When Lt. Hank Anderson spirals down and drinks his life away, Gavin isn’t surprised. He doesn’t even care why a promising cop like Hank would resort to drinking. He remembers the smell of booze around the house and in the bar his parents took him once and it makes him disgusted.

He doesn’t try to hide his new-found hatred either. He makes offending comments and doesn’t blink twice as Hank becomes as hostile to him as Gavin is to him.

He sees a wreck of a human. An empty shell of who Hank Anderson was. Whatever happened made him a mess and destroyed a promising career. Gavin could sympathize but Hank doesn’t even look like he’s regretting becoming an alcoholic. He doesn’t even look. He’s just there. The DPD is happy when he shows up at all.

“Rough night?” Gavin sneers when Hank comes to work an hour before his shift ends.

Hank has dark and deep bangs under his eyes, his moves are sluggish and he stinks as if he didn’t shower for months. Gavin looks at him and his respect for a man he once admired lowers to a zero.

“Fuck off, Reed.”

 Gavin suddenly looks at him, narrows his eyes.

When Hank spiraled down, no one was surprised. No one cared. Gavin didn’t think about it until he caught the man looking at a picture of a young boy on his old phone. No one asked, no one helped him. Whatever happened was Hank’s business and with the man’s independent nature, no one dared to come up and offer a shoulder to cry on.

A young boy meant either a son, or a close relative. Gavin doesn’t care about him, but he also never knew a warmth of a family. He can’t even relate. Maybe that’s what makes it easier for Gavin to hate Hank. His drinking problem that reminds him of Gavin’s own parents.

The point still stands.

Hank lost someone and nobody was there for him to catch him. It looks like Hank only now learned that no one ever had your back and you could only ever count on yourself. If Gavin wasn’t so blinded by his hatred for him, he would pity him. But he is. And it seems like Gavin was the only one who treated Hank the same. The rest avoided him as he grieved.

“That’s fucking pathetic, you know?” says Gavin that day and doesn’t regret his comment when Hank glares at him, “You ruined your whole life and for what? Booze.”

“You know shit, Reed.”

Gavin smirks, “You’d be surprised.”

“Oh, yeah?” mocks Hank, before he stand up, ready to leave the precinct after doing absolutely nothing, “Well, why don’t you enlighten me then. If you know so much, you prick.”

“I will let you find out for yourself,” he shrugged, “Not like you would remember what I said with how wasted you are.”

Hank’s face darkens, “You’re a fucking jerk.”

“And you’re an alcoholic who hides behind booze instead of getting help,” Gavin shoots back and leans forward on his chair when Hanks takes a step forward in his direction, “Do you think this shit helps? Do you think it makes you forget whatever you’re struggling with, huh?”

“Shut the _fuck_ up—“

“You’re not getting him back,” Gavin sneers and he means well, because no one will tell Hank that what he does is stupid and reckless, no one will stop him because no one actually cares about what people do, everybody's too kind to say any shit to Hank “Killing yourself day by day doesn’t make the reality go away, it just covers it up so you don’t have to look at it,” he clenches his fists, feels that it has gotten too personal, that _he_ has gotten too vulnerable, “You think it’s better this way. That he would have wanted that? I think that’s pathetic—“

In a second, he’s off the ground and in the air as Hank holds him up by his jacket and growls in his face, “What do you fucking know about me or what I’m struggling with, you fucker, huh? You never loved anybody. You never even fucking cared about that shit. You’re heartless, Reed.”

“At least I don’t drink myself to death,” Gavin hisses.

Hank narrows his eyes, “What’s it to you?”

Gavin experienced first-hand how an alcoholic man behaves, how he thinks and acts. He saw how people who were addicted treated other kids in foster houses, how they got beat up simply because a caretaker was too drunk to control himself. Stuff like that was the reason he got into police. To stop it.

“I think that’s pathetic,” he repeats.

Hank’s face twists into something uglier, more broken. Gavin sees his father for a moment, ready to throw his bottle at him and smash his face into the ground and flinches.

“I think that _you_ are pathetic,” he says instead and if he saw Gavin’s reaction, he didn’t comment on it, “Treating everybody like shit.”

“Fuck you.”

Hank huffs and lets him go. Gavin fixes his jacket.

“Stay away from my business unless you want to get punched, Reed,” he says and Gavin narrows his eyes at him, but stays quiet, “You know what happened the last time you were being noisy.”

“You’re killing yourself,” he grits his teeth.

Hank pulls on his coat and looks seriously at him, “Eveybody’s gotta die at some point.”

Gavin doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand. Hank Anderson doesn’t make any sense, his habits or his lifestyle or his way of getting under Gavin’s skin just by looking at him. As Hank leaves the precinct, Gavin realizes that it’s too late. No one offered their support when Hank lost someone and now it’s just too late.

He tried, at least. For whatever that was worth, he tried. But Hank was like his father, addicted and empty.

Gavin hates him after that day a little more.

* * *

 

                Gavin still hates Christmas by the time he’s thirty six, but this time he somehow feels worse. It’s not like the whole android revolution touched him personally – he still hates there things, still remembers the way Elijah traded him for a piece of a fucking plastic. Nothing changed in that department.

                Connor – the RK800 or something, android detective, _a prototype_ – still works at DPD after the androids’ rights passed through. Still occupies the desk in front of Anderson’s, still tries to be friendly and shit, and almost everyone bought its little puppy act.

                Gavin doesn’t buy it.

                Connor knows it, because in a month after the revolution it avoided Gavin like its life depended on him. It stuck to officers like Miller or Collins and even goddamn Fowler seems to like it. Fowler who doesn’t really play favorites.

                “He’s still the same piece of plastic,” Tina Chen says one day when they’re getting coffee in the break room.

                Gavin hums, drinking.

                “Obviously,” he comments.

                But he sees the way Tina starts to avoid him too, starts talking with plastics in the whole precinct, starts being friends with them. She smiles and laughs with them, and not at them and Gavin feels left out, somehow. He’s known Tina since the Academy – he knows she’s fooled.

                “Good morning, Detective Reed,” says Connor another day, “Officer Chen seems to taken liking to one of the police androids that worked here before the revolution.”

                “What do you want, tin-can?”

                “I heard they’re going to be partners.”

                This time Gavin turns around, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in another. They’re in the break room, Connor’s getting coffee for Lt. Anderson. Somehow, still in its android uniform, Connor looks more… normal. More human. Gavin hates it.

                “What?” he bites out.

                Connor shrugs, but Gavin sees his lips twitch. The LED on his forehead spins a calm blue, but Gavin realizes with horror, that Connor looks almost playful.

                “I thought you knew about this, Detective. Officer Chen was quite happy about the news. Everyone here was already aware of it.”

                Gavin doesn’t know how to reply to that.

                He starts to understand and sees how Tina drifted apart from him. How they both stopped talking and getting coffee together. It all started with androids and their goddamn revolution. Gavin wants to be angry at Connor, at Tina, at Elijah and everybody else somehow connected to androids, but he realizes with an frustrated huff that he can’t.

                “Detective Reed?”

                Gavin looks up, remembering only now that Connor was in the same room as he and he glares at him. Or at least, tries to. Suddenly, he doesn’t have the strength to insult it or even push him around. He’s tired.

                “Good for her,” he says harshly.

                Connor stares at him, analyzing. Gavin grips his mug tighter, “What are you looking at, huh? Go bother someone else,  plastic prick.”

                “Did Officer Chen not share the news with you, Detective? You two seemed close,” Connor seems confused.

                Gavin laughs without humor.

                “Yeah, no. Now Fuck off. Your face makes me sick.”

                Connor’s LED turns yellow, then red, and again yellow before it settles on blue. Gavin looks at it longer than he should, remembers the way Chloe would do the same after he’d said something mean to her and then he turns with his coffee and goes to sit at his desk.

                It’s not Christmas yet, but Gavin already feels like it is.

* * *

 

                The Christmas day of 2038 is the worst Christmas Gavin has to experience. He sits by his desk, writes his report after he successfully closed the two week long case of Red Ice dealers and enjoys the last moments of peace before the DPD’s Christmas party gets announced. He’s not coming to a party anyways, not like anyone would invite him – they stopped after he yelled at someone on the last one he’s been at. But he wants to be gone before they look at him and grimace.

                He’s not that lucky.

                “Reed, in my office!” Fowler yells out, head peeking out only for a moment before he disappears into his office again.

                Gavin feels his stomach twisting as he gets up. He never gets called into the office on Christmas time. He’s always left alone, because Captain knows his temper and how annoying Gavin  becomes to others. They always allow him to leave work earlier.

                Things aren’t like that anymore. They’re changing. With the Android Revolution, everything seemed to evolve. Gavin would never admit it out loud, but he started to worry about his job.

                “This is RK900.”

                At first, Gavin doesn’t actually register the words as he walks in. Just kind of stands there and stares. Doesn’t dare to look back. Doesn’t say a word. Fowler gives him a look and continues, “CyberLife sends him as a—“

                And then Gavin’s brain kicks back in, “I’m sorry, what?”

                Captain Fowler narrows his eyes, “Reed.”

                Gavin laughs hollowly and points finger in the direction of an android he knows is standing behind him and says, “There’s no way you’re actually serious. We have that dumb Anderson’s pet. Connor. Why do we need another Connor?”

                “That’s not Connor,” Fowler says and it’s clear he’s holding back some words, “That’s RK900, Connor’s successor—“

                “Connor’s what?”

                “…and he was sent here by CyberLife to help investigators. Just like Connor does. Now, I’ve been told he’s actually better. Is that true? I have no bloody idea, but he’s here to stay, because after the revolution CyberLife has been under fire for not helping when they could. They’re trying to make amends.”

                Gavin nods numbly, straightens himself and hides his hands in his pockets when he realizes they’ve started shaking. He feels hot, as if the thing behind him watched him. He knows it does. It’s like a taller copy of Connor, always analyzing, always watching. Gavin can already feel the hatred building in his chest.

                He finally musters up the courage to ask, “Why am I here?”

                Gavin doesn’t look at Captain Fowler for a moment and risks a glance at Anderson’s desk. He sees Connor watching them with a tiny smile, sees the way Anderson has a questioning look on his face. Connor doesn’t look like he’s willing to explain to Anderson why Gavin’s in the office. Gavin doesn’t know it himself, but he when he sees the  grin on Connor’s usually calm face, he knows it’s nothing good.

                He looks back at Fowler. The man actually, honest to God, grimaces. Gavin waits for the punchline.

                “He will be your partner.”

                Gavin’s mouth opens and shuts three times, before he actually stumbles back in shock.

                “You,” he swallows hard then glares, “You’re kidding right? It’s a fucking joke. You’re, you’re not making that thing my fucking partner, right? I misheard—“

                “It’s Captain to you, Reed,” the man cuts in, “And do I look like I’m fucking joking?”

                Honestly, no. He doesn’t. Captain look ridiculously serious and it makes Gavin even sicker. He wants to punch something, someone. He knows he shouldn’t, so he holds himself back, but the lone thought that a perfect target stands just behind him makes him grit his teeth and clench his fist.

                “Sir, please, reconsider,” he pleads, “No one ever stayed my partner for longer than a month. It’s, it’s stupid. Why can’t Anderson take him?”

                “RK900 hasn’t been out here for long, he’s actually fresh out of factory. A state-of-the-art android. He’s worth more than this whole precinct, Reed. I’m entrusting you with him. Anderson already has a partner and Connor and him actually make a great team,” he narrows his eyes at him, “you’re the only one that has a problem with androids. RK900 is your only chance if you want to keep your badge.”

                “What.”

                Fowler’s glare softens a little, but he still looks stern. He knows how much this job meant to Gavin, he read his files, “You cooperate with him and you may even get promoted if you do a good job. It’s a an opportunity, Reed. You never backed down from a challenge, did you?”

                “No, I didn’t,” he bites out bitterly.

                “Then I don’t see why you would start now,” he nods to RK900 standing behind them, “He’s a good guy, Reed. I already talked to him, he will get the desk in front of you, because Brown moved.”

                Gavin nods, numb. He turns around, doesn’t meet RK900’s calculating look and gets out of the office before the thing can say anything. He’s almost by his desk when he hears it talking to Anderson.

                “So, you got stuck with Reed?”

                It doesn’t actually hurt Gavin to hear the question phrased like that. It’s actually pretty common for people to pity others when they get partnered with him. He’s not surprised, because most of the time he does act like an asshole and has a specific sense of humor. Not to mention people who actually like androids now and don’t handle his anti-android speeches well.

                “I wouldn’t call it  being ‘stuck’,” the thing answers and suddenly Gavin finds himself watching it from his seat, “From what I’ve heard, he’s a competent detective and I am glad to be working with him.”

                Gavin kind of just shut down at that. He doesn’t even care that others can clearly see him staring. He needs to see it for himself, make sure he’s not making shit up.

                “Well, you haven’t meet ‘im, yet,” Anderson shrugs, obviously off-put by the answer.

                “Detective Reed’s behavior makes him…” Connor trails off, searching for the right words when RK900 steps in.

                “Yes. He is… quite interesting,” it agrees and its eyes somehow find Gavin’s gaze and hold it, “I can’t wait to get to know him better and establish a healthy relationship.”

                It somehow feels like RK900 is saying that to him, and not to Connor and Gavin feels small, exposed. With Connor it was never a problem, because Connor looks like a goddamn puppy all the time. But RK900 is more like a watch dog. Gavin doesn’t like how it makes him feel.

                Anderson’s voice makes him snap to reality, “Yeah, good luck with that, pal.”

                Connor only nods his agreement and the conversation ends. RK900 actually goes up to him and sits in the empty desk, looking at something in his terminal. It was only when Gavin got up to get himself another coffee to get through the party announcement that he noticed RK900’s desk not being entirely empty.

                “Is that a fucking cactus?” he mutters to himself.

                RK900 still hears him and looks up from the terminal. It’s only then that Gavin actually looks at him and sees that it’s not actually a copy of Connor. Its eyes are different, jaw, cheeks, hair color. The jacket issued by CyberLife is different, too.

_Its eyes are fucking blue? Grey? White?_

                “It is,” it says and Gavin almost flinches when RK900’s lips twitch into a ghost of a smirk, “It reminded me of you.”

 Gavin’s mouth opens and stays that way, until someone shouts at him to close it and get back to work.

                “What the fuck,” he says softly, but with feeling, “what. The. Actual. Fuck?”

                RK900 doesn’t even blink, it turns back to its terminal and begins working. Gavin feels his eye twitch as he goes to the break room for another coffee, resigning himself to stay for a party announcement after all.

                Gavin hates Christmas by default, but after this he feels like he hates it even more.

**Author's Note:**

> I researched what I could, but I probably got some of the things wrong, like foster care system or how the police works or some words might be mixed up because English isn't my first language. It's fiction, though, so ekhem, let's just ignore it and enjoy.


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